


hesitation

by orphan_account



Series: help me breathe [4]
Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangs, M/M, NEATO, be warned, descriptions of violence and mental abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He cracked like an egg, and he's frying in my skillet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hesitation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey . hell o  
> i'm gonna try and post these more Regularly but like i said in the last one, if you wanna read them quicker than i can post them, the whole dang thing is right [here!!!](http://vampirehansol.tumblr.com/tagged/help-me-breathe)  
> anyway heres some garbage! kudos + comments are appreciated!!

Dongsung used to be quite the fighter. He used to hit, punch, kick, and bite whatever and whoever he could; he used to spit curses and seethe venom and hate everyone, _everyone_. He looks at the local sect and figures that it’d be too easy to take Sangdo down, so he comes for Sehyuk’s crown instead.

He decided that he was going to try and kill Sehyuk, naturally. He got Sehyuk on the ground, his hands clasped around his throat, and all he got in return was a grin and Sehyuk’s soft hands around his wrists.

When Dongsung can’t bear it anymore and eases up, Sehyuk holds one of his hands sweetly and tells him, “Don’t hesitate. If you’re going to kill me, do it right.” Dongsung is allowed to linger on the words for a bit before Sehyuk punches him, right in the face, breaking his nose and leaving the blood on his knuckles.

The force causes Dongsung to fall to the side and Sehyuk kneels on his chest, pressing his weight into Dongsung and making his breath wheeze out of him. “Listen, Dongsung,” Sehyuk says, sounding almost bored, face close to Dongsung’s. “You’re beneath me, and I expect you to start acting like it.”

“Fuck you,” Dongsung spits out, raising a hand to wipe the blood away from his mouth. “I didn’t come here to be- be one of your mindless goons, I came here to be in charge.”

“Well, you’ve already failed,” Sehyuk says simply, standing up, “because you could have killed me right then and there and I wouldn’t have done anything about it.” He straightens his shirt, wiping at a fleck of blood on it, before kicking Dongsung in the stomach. While Dongsung curls in on himself, wheezing and trying to protect himself from anymore kicks, Sehyuk laughs. “You aren’t going to be hard to break, not at all.”

And, well, Sehyuk isn’t wrong. He rarely is when it comes to deciding how much it’ll take for someone to snap- Hyunho took years, Hansol took a few days without food, Sangwon took a backhanded slap and some mean words. Dongsung… well, we’ll see.

 

“What’s your name?”

“Kim Dongsung.”

Sehyuk nods, twirling his cane around in his fingers, from one hand to the other, before poking at the cut on Dongsung’s cheek with the end. Dongsung hisses through his teeth, and when he looks up at Sehyuk his eyes are filled with hatred, defiance. Nothing Sehyuk wants. “So strong,” Sehyuk says, reaching over and brushing Dongsung’s hair away from his face, rubbing his thumb across his forehead. “Minds like yours crack the hardest.”

Dongsung, not to Sehyuk’s surprise, snaps at him, teeth going for his wrist, and this time Sehyuk lets him, instead of pulling away like he’s  _scared_. Dongsung’s teeth latch onto a bit of skin on the side of Sehyuk’s wrist and bite down hard, Dongsung making eye contact the whole time.

“Go ahead,” Sehyuk says, making an effort to sound totally bored. “Do whatever, bite me, tear into my flesh. It’s not going to make a bit of difference in the end.”

Dongsung growls low in his throat and jerks his head back, and Sehyuk barely flinches when his skin rips and blood runs down his arm, dripping off his elbow. Sehyuk runs his finger up his arm, along the trail of blood, then across Dongsung’s lips.

“Ugh, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Dongsung asks, incredulous, as he desperately tries to get the blood off his lips without licking them.

“Well, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” Sehyuk leans in, touching his nose to Dongsung’s for a moment before Dongsung jerks away.

“I don’t want anything but for you to drop dead.” Dongsung grumbles, sounding very much like a grumpy child, and Sehyuk smiles.

“So cute. Come on, darling,” he holds out his uninjured arm, gently resting his fingers on Dongsung’s cheek. “Bite me again.”

Dongsung makes a face, as if he loathes the thought now that Sehyuk’s telling him to do it, but he turns his head to the side and grabs Sehyuk’s skin with his teeth anyway. It’s not as hard as it was before, not with the intent to injure but the intent to- to please, to pacify.

Sehyuk wonders briefly: if he told Dongsung to bite his neck, would he bite like this, gently holding Sehyuk’s flesh between his teeth? Or would he bite down with such ferocity as before, trying to rip Sehyuk’s throat out?

He wants to find out.

 

Sehyuk marks progression on his calendar, marks the days that it takes for Dongsung to go from a loose cannon to something quieter, something that still hates Sehyuk but that doesn’t complain about it every four seconds.

Sehyuk asks, as always, “What is your name?”

This time, he responds with, “D… Dongsung, it’s- it’s Dongsung,” almost as if he’s struggling to remember.

Sehyuk smiles, gently stroking Dongsung’s hair. “Good boy.”

Dongsung shoves Sehyuk’s hand away with his head, hands straining against his restraints. “Let me go.”

Sehyuk notices that, unlike the usual, it’s not some sort of command filled with hate, it’s a gentle plea. So Sehyuk nods, pulling out his pocketknife and cutting through the thick rope keeping Dongsung’s hands tied, taking Dongsung’s hands in his and kissing at the scabbing burns on his wrists. He expects Dongsung to take the obvious opportunity to wrap his hands around Sehyuk’s neck, or at least shove him away, but instead he just places his fingertips against Sehyuk’s cheeks, almost cautious. Sehyuk nuzzles his face into Dongsung’s palms, remaining there for a bit.

That second day that Dongsung was with them, the day he first tried to kill Sehyuk and hesitated- Sehyuk saw that look in his eye, the look that said he regarded Sehyuk something as, as fragile, or sweet, something that shouldn’t be killed. Sehyuk intends to strip Dongsung of everything but that part, and also intends to make that part flourish.

 

Sehyuk wrote on a date eight months from that particular day: “Dongsung is mine now”. Turns out, it only takes half that for Dongsung to be clay beneath his fingers, broken and malleable, something Sehyuk doesn’t mind dirtying his hands with.

Sehyuk knows this because of the look in Dongsung’s eyes, the way he regards Sehyuk with fear but reverence, the way he flinches when Sehyuk lifts a hand to stroke his hair, as has become a regular practice during his visits to Dongsung’s room.

“You’re a good boy, Dongsung,” Sehyuk says softly, leaning to kiss Dongsung’s forehead (he doesn’t know why Dongsung still insists upon residing in the floor), and Dongsung whines in the back of his throat. “What is it?”

Dongsung carefully reaches out, hands touching the backs of Sehyuk’s thighs, ghosting over them, eyes wide as he looks at Sehyuk. Sehyuk nods, so Dongsung’s hands slide up, first gently touching and then grabbing Sehyuk’s ass.

“Dongsung, dear,” Sehyuk begins, brushing Dongsung’s hair away from his face and kissing a healing cut at his temple. “Have I melted you so much that you won’t tear into me again?”

Dongsung’s voice cracks when he answers. “I still want you dead.”

Sehyuk nods. “I’d have it no other way.”

Dongsung lifts up slightly, catching Sehyuk’s bottom lip with his teeth and biting down hard, keeping his mouth sealed over Sehyuk’s so his blood drips into his mouth. Sehyuk makes a soft noise, licking into his mouth heatedly and whining when Dongsung holds his tongue in his teeth, biting down just hard enough so Sehyuk can’t move it.

Dongsung breaks away first, shrinking back away from Sehyuk as if he’s scared Sehyuk will punish him. But Sehyuk just grins, wiping at blood in the corner of Dongsung’s mouth and whispering, “Good boy.”

 

Sehyuk’s back connects with the wall hard enough that he knows he’s going to have bruises, and for a second he thinks maybe Dongsung has come back to bite, maybe he didn’t strip him down enough and he’s finally going to kill him-

There’s no hesitation, sure, but it’s to kiss Sehyuk and not strangle him. Dongsung’s hands are strong and warm against Sehyuk’s shoulders and they drop to Sehyuk’s waist when he wraps his arms around Dongsung’s neck.

“That’s what you’re after, huh?” Sehyuk whispers, pressing his forehead against Dongsung’s. “Fuck me, Dongsung.”

Sehyuk is used to Dongsung regarding him with caution and respect, asking to hold his hands and closing his own around Sehyuk’s softly, as if he’s a doll. Sehyuk likes that, likes the sort of familiar warmness that burns in his chest when he comes to visit Dongsung- nothing like love, more like obsession.

He’s used to gentle touches and Dongsung looking at him with a gleam of adoration in his eyes, because that’s what he wanted. But it’s not to the point where Dongsung still doesn’t want him dead, and Sehyuk isn’t sure if he wants to take that away, because-

“Ah, be gentle,” Sehyuk breathes as the side of his face makes contact with the wall harshly, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek.

Dongsung leans over, putting his mouth near Sehyuk’s ear and laughing low. “You don’t deserve it.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

After Dongsung’s hands leave bruises on Sehyuk’s hips, and shoulders, and neck, when Sehyuk guides them there, Sehyuk decides that he quite likes this.

 

It’s that one day, the day that Sangwon stands up and flips out his knife, coming for Sehyuk, that Sehyuk knows he’s not vulnerable anymore, because-

“Holy shit!” Hansol yells as Sangwon is sent flying, hitting the wall and taking a vintage painting down with him when he falls to the floor with a mighty wheeze. He turns his eyes to Dongsung, standing in the middle of the room staring at Sangwon’s crumpled form, before he turns on Hansol. “Oh no, oh no no no, I didn’t do anything-”

“Dongsung.” Sehyuk says calmly, resting his chin in his hand. Dongsung freezes, turning his head to look at Sehyuk, and Sehyuk points to the floor at his feet. Dongsung hurriedly falls to the floor, crawling to Sehyuk and laying his head on his thigh.

“Jesus fuck,” Hansol breathes, pressing a hand to his chest. “That thing is fucking terrifying, Sehyuk, what did you do?”

“Did what I couldn’t manage with you or Sangwon, my dear,” Sehyuk says, smiling as he strokes Dongsung’s hair. “He cracked like an egg, Hansol, and he’s frying in my skillet.”

Hansol opens his mouth to speak but seems to reconsider, then goes ahead. “You’re fucking sick.”

“And you just now came to that conclusion?” Sehyuk asks, sounding utterly bored and reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He pauses for a moment, tapping the end of the filter on his bottom lip, looking over to where Sangwon is still curled up along the wall. “Get up, Sangwon, you’ve had worse. Don’t sulk over it.”

“Fuck off,” Sangwon groans, and Hansol sees Dongsung tense up at Sehyuk’s feet. Sehyuk tugs gently on his hair and he relaxes once more, snuggling his face into Sehyuk’s thigh.

“Don’t be so rude, Sangwon,” Sehyuk says, putting his cigarette between his lips and reaching back into his pocket for his lighter. He looks to Hansol as he lights it, taking a drag off of it and exhaling slowly. “And sit back down, Hansol, nothing’s going to happen to you.” Hansol does as he’s told, chewing his lip nervously, and Sehyuk smiles. “Now, what I wanted to talk to you about…”

 

“Hyosang, my dear,” Sehyuk says, beaming when Hansol and Sangwon haul him in. “So nice to see you.”

“Fuck you,” Hyosang spits, face twisting, and Sehyuk mocks offense.

“Is that any way to treat your host, Hyosang? You’d better be nice to me, because if not…” He stands up, walking to Hyosang leisurely and grabbing his chin. “It’s going to be a very unpleasant few days for you.”

“What the hell do you want?” Hyosang growls, struggling against his captors’ grip on his arms and going to kick at Sehyuk. His boot makes contact with Sehyuk’s shin and Sehyuk winces even though he barely felt it.

“No, no, no, this just won’t do…” Sehyuk takes a few steps back, turning to where Dongsung is huddled up beside his armchair. “Dongsung, darling, I can trust you to correct him, right?”

Dongsung nods, standing up and approaching Hyosang slowly, and Hyosang slowly begins to panic- Sehyuk can see it in his eyes, in the sweat building up on his face and neck, and it’s a lovely sight.

Afterwards, Sehyuk kisses Dongsung’s bloody cheeks and tells him he did a good, good job.


End file.
